


The Prince and Prey

by jpetrakis



Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe - Royalty, Assisted Suicide, M/M, Minor Character Death, Suicide
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-12
Updated: 2018-06-27
Packaged: 2018-12-12 08:08:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11733036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jpetrakis/pseuds/jpetrakis
Summary: Blaine’s only worry as the crown prince of Westerwick was to persuade his father into allowing him to marry his childhood friend, a palace servant named Sebastian. When the kingdom is threatened by the hands of King Burt of Lima, he must do all that is within his power to take his rightful place on the throne.





	1. The Beginning of the End

 

With each breath drawn, Sebastian’s lungs felt on fire. His hands trembled and he felt the earth shifting under his feet. With Blaine right beside him, scimitar grasped tightly in his gloved hands, Sebastian knew everything they had worked toward together had culminated to this defining battle.

“Scared, B?” Sebastian spoke under his breath as the two glared up at their demented adversary.

“What kind of prince would I be if I admitted that?” Prince Blaine of Westerwick questioned with a wry laugh. Perhaps a year ago he would’ve been frightened down to his very core to face up against the tyrannical king of Lima, but not today-- not after everything he’d been through.

The ground beneath them shook again but neither man appeared phased. Armies around them, friend and foe alike, fought determinedly and neither Sebastian nor Blaine were an exception. After they had battled their way through an army of foes, they both stood in the middle of the throne room.

The Supreme King Hummel, who had no intention of giving up his place as head of the Westerwick kingdom, glowered at the two young men from his seat on the throne. His son, the crown prince, stood right beside him with a similar expression donning his scarred face.

“Kill them both, Father! Especially that weaselly peasant!” The out-of-breath Prince Kurt all but shrieked, unsheathing his broadsword and pointing it in Sebastian’s direction. “He’s the cause for our downfall! He’s the reason for all of this!”

As Kurt gestured around them, from the crumbling walls of the castle, to the great, winged beast fighting and devouring Liman foot soldiers just outside; war raged on all across the land and would continue until a victor emerged from the rubble.

Blaine would reclaim the throne and restore the legacy of the Anderson name.

He would restore his kingdom to its former glory.


	2. The Kingdom Falls

The sound of metal against metal clashing against each other rang through the air on a breezy summer day. Two warriors were engaged in a battle with traditional broadswords and it was obvious one was more skilled than the other. As sweat beaded and trickled down the side of the novice’s face, the skilled fighter smirked knowing his victory was right around the corner.

A swift leg sweep caught the novice off-guard and found himself on the ground, the tip of a broadsword pointed in his direction.

“Goddammit!” Grasping at the grass beneath him, the defeated young man groaned and fell back to a prone position. “I swear, Seb, I _almost_ had you this time!”

The victor, Sebastian, withdrew his sword and sheathed it before extending his hand to help his foe and friend to his feet. “You still have a ways to go, Blaine.” His victory only made his grin all the more smug.

The crown prince and knight in-training, Blaine Anderson, sat back up with an exasperated yet amused breath. “Can’t you even attempt to feign humility?” He took the offered hand and when he was pulled to his feet he all but jumped into the taller man’s arms. “Arrogance is not a very attractive color on you…” Blaine's voice dropped in volume and when he brushed his lips against the taller man’s, he hummed at the reciprocation.

“We both know I'm only so arrogant because you keep losing to me. You’d better catch up if you want to make a decent king.” Sebastian teased with his arms wrapped around the prince’s slender waist. The two chuckled and Sebastian allowed himself the enjoyable, peaceful moment before realizing who it was that was in front of him.

The two had been friends since either could remember-- Sebastian was barely three years old when Blaine was born and with the former having been raised by a palace servant, the two grew up as childhood friends. They were often reprimanded for crossing boundaries and even found as teenagers romping around in empty rooms; it was made very clear to both then that Blaine would one day marry someone of royal heritage.

Not Sebastian.

Not ever.

“You can't keep tempting me like this, B. You know _exactly_ what you do to me.” Sebastian complained though he made no move to remove himself from the other’s hold. As he felt Blaine's fingers twining through his auburn locks, he leaned into the shorter man’s touch.

Blaine, ever the rebel, shrugged his shoulders. “Oh, what's going to happen? Worst case scenario Coop finds us and threatens to kick your ass.”

Sebastian rolled his eyes at the mention of the royal knight. “Because the last thing I need is Cooper Solaris challenging me to a duel for defiling the Prince of Westerwick; I might be skilled in a sword but even _I_ can't best him.”

“Once I have the ability, I'll abolish those stupid laws that say I _must_ marry someone of royal heritage.” Blaine spoke resolutely, years ago having made up his mind about Sebastian and knowing he wouldn't be happy with anyone else. Once he was in an actual position of power, he would make his and Sebastian's relationship official.

While the idea and prospect itself definitely appealed to Sebastian, it seemed much more easier said than done. For one, Sebastian wasn't just _not_ of royal heritage; he was a lowly servant. Abandoned as a sick baby in Westerwick and found by a knight, he was brought to the king. With no orphanage within the kingdom or willing family to take in the ill child, the generous king took pity and gave him a place to stay in the castle. The servants raised him even though the boy had no home or parents to call his own.

_“Sebastian. His name will be Sebastian-- for no one wants him now, he will grow to be someone revered by all one day.”_ The words spoken by the king himself were often told to Sebastian in his youth and gave him the drive to take up the sword and one day serve his kingdom well. He felt indebted and grateful to the king and he almost felt as if beguiling the prince would be a betrayal of trust.

“I doubt even if it were to become law, your father would approve. I'm good-looking but I don't have what it takes to be a prince-- much less a king. I'm a fighter, not a ruler or a diplomat.” Sebastian heard the gallop of a horse approaching and swiftly pushed Blaine away just as Cooper came into view from the top of the hilltop. “Look, I'm sure he's here to fetch you. Aren't you meant to meet with the neighboring royalties visiting today?”

Cooper sat upon a white steed, dressed in polished silver armor. He looked down expectantly at the two, waving in their direction. “Prince Blaine! Your father requests your presence… Immediately!” He shouted loudly enough to know the duo heard him.

The two shared a look with each other and Sebastian urged him in the direction of the Cooper and the palace. “Go. I should already be heading home to prepare for the other royalties to arrive. I’ll see you after, okay?”

Blaine nodded and begrudgingly left, mounting the horse with Cooper’s help. The two took off in the direction of the castle leaving Sebastian to take the sparring equipment home by foot.

 

* * *

 

Back at the castle, Cooper navigated the prince to his private quarters to get dressed in his robes. “A prince such as yourself shouldn’t be sparring with that ruffian,” the royal knight protested, speaking to the prince from the other side of the privacy partition. “If you wanted to spar, you know I’m more than willing to comply.”

“Oh, Coop, don’t be so dramatic,” Blaine dismissed, stepping out from behind the partition, donned in his best robes that proudly displayed Westerwick’s navy blue and crimson red. “Seb is my best friend and I like sparring with him because _he’s_ not a royal knight and he’s practically self-taught. I’m _this_ close to beating him.”

With the prince properly dressed to welcome their expected company, he and Cooper joined the king in the throne room. Before Blaine took his seat, he bowed before his king and father in respect. The elder Anderson, seated upon his gold throne decorated with precious gems, nodded to his son.

“You're late, Blaine. I assume you were out sparring with your friend again?” The king asked, rubbing at the salt-and-pepper scruff upon his chin. “Someday soon you'll be the one sitting here and you won't have time for such things.”

As Blaine took his seat at the smaller throne placed next to his father’s, he spotted Sebastian out of the corner of his eye hiding behind one of the palace columns. “I-I was just brushing up on my sword skills, Father,” the prince replied with honesty. Blaine watched as Sebastian winked in his direction before slinking away, probably to tend to his duties as a palace servant.

The king chuckled as he detected his son’s anxiety. “Blaine, don't worry. You know I have no objects to you befriending Sebastian.” He motioned for Cooper to approach the throne to which the royal knight lowered himself to one knee and bowed before his king. “We're ready now; show our guests in, Cooper.”

“Yes, your majesty.” Cooper left through the throne room’s large double doors and returned shortly after with two men following behind. “Announcing King Burt Hummel of Lima and his son the crown prince, Kurt Hummel!” Both men were dressed in bejeweled robes and had two guards dressed in black accompanying them.

The older of the two wore a crown atop his bald head, dressed in armored robes of black and turquoise that hugged his thick build. “Erik! How kind of you to grace our presence by welcoming us into your castle!” When the bald man spread his arms apart in greeting, the coat of arms embellished on his breastplate glistened. From his breastplate and gauntlets, all the way to his greaves, each piece of armor shined with various precious gems and stones. “You remember my progeny and only son, Kurt?”

Following closely behind Burt was a young man with a much smaller frame, dressed similarly though without as much armor as his father. He wore a wry smile across his face and merely scrunched his face in greeting to the host king.

King Erik of Westerwick stood from his throne to greet his guests, nodding, “Yes, of course. Thank you for joining us from so far away to discuss this treaty and trade agreement, King Burt. I’m sure the representative from Citadel Wain will join us soon.”

Soon after Erik spoke those words, the double doors swung open as a man draped in purple robes embossed with gold came traipsing through. “Bon- _jour_!” he drug out the last syllable as he strolled in, a Westerwick guard attempting to chase after him. Cooper made a move from his place next to the throne to stop the apparently crazed man but Erik gestured for him to remain at his post.

“Speak of the devil,” Erik chuckled and motioned for their new guest to join them in front of the throne. “I see the Citadel Wain council has reelected you as its leader, Sir Baptiste.”

“Please, King Erik-- you may address me by my first name.” With a flourish of his hand, he pointed in Blaine’s direction. “Considering I’m aiming to wed your son, we should be on a first name basis by now. I hope he’s been thinking about my proposal from the last time we’ve spoken.” He winked and shot a dashing grin toward the young man in question.

A blush spread across Blaine’s face and he smiled politely despite feeling embarrassed for being put on the spot. It was no secret that Jean Baptiste had actively been pursuing him but Blaine already had his heart set on someone else.

Erik laughed with amusement, standing from his throne. “The three of us have gathered today to discuss the amendment to our treaty. Each of our kingdoms have a bountiful resource up for trade and I think with this renewed alliance, we would all benefit from each other.”

Burt interrupted with a hoarse and deliberate clearing of his throat. “Yeah, that’s all swell and all but I read over your little contract when you summoned me here and frankly, I don’t care for this. We’ve got a whole series of caverns _filled_ with precious stones and gems. We’ve got more wealth than either of you two can even dream about. We have nothing to gain from this trade agreement.”

Clearly taken aback from Burt’s statement, King Erik was at a lost for words.

“I’d argue that the technology Citadel Wain has to offer is priceless,” Jean Baptiste spoke up first, “The armor your soldiers are wearing look awfully heavy; we’ve recently developed a lightweight armor that allows for greater mobility.”

Erik nodded in agreement, crossing his arms over his chest. “I know that Lima would also do well with our aqueduct system; I hear most of your citizens don’t have easy access to clean water whereas all of our people do.”

“Your arrogance will be your downfall, you idiotic buffoon! My father should reign over Westerwick, not you!” An outburst from Prince Kurt had Blaine wide-eyed, looking to his father for his reaction and response.

Words of treason had Cooper reaching for his sword should he need to protect the King and Prince against an attack. The guards who held post at the door also had a grip on their swords should anything get out of hand. The entire room had grown tense and even the typically goofy Jean Baptiste couldn’t come up with anything to lighten the mood.

Erik swallowed thickly and quickly regained his composure as a proper, dignified king. “You should teach your son to watch his tongue, Burt-- Especially in the presence of royalty or dignitaries.”

Burt glowered up at Erik, standing upon his pedestal where his luxurious throne sat. Burt stared the man down and his eyes glowed an ominous purple with the next words he spoke. “You should kill yourself and make me the King to Westerwick!”

Before anyone could react to Burt’s suggestion, Erik reached for the small dagger placed at the side of his belt and held it firmly against his neck.

Blaine stood to his feet, confused and horrified at his father’s actions. “Dad, wh-what’re you doing?!” Before the prince or anyone else could speak another word, Erik dragged the tip of the blade against his throat. Thick, dark blood gushed out of the king’s neck, spilling over the front of his robes and onto the stone floor.

“He’s a mage! He’s controlling the king!” Cooper exclaimed, jumping into action to grab ahold of Blaine and pull him away from the sorcerer. No sooner had they stepped off the throne pedestal was the throne room ambushed with Lima soldiers all brandishing their swords and spears. Cooper pulled Blaine away and towards the back entrance of the throne room to safety.

“Seize the prince and bring me his head!” Burt commanded with a roar of his voice, his eyes still glowing a menacing purple. The Liman soldiers very swiftly overpowered the Westerwick guards, using the element of surprise to their advantage.

Cooper maneuvered his way through the castle and pushed Blaine through a hidden entrance where they could not be found. “We’ll escape by horse out of the kingdom; if the Liman soldiers have already made their way into the throne room then there’s no chance our armies survived this attack.”

“C-Coop, th-they killed my dad!” Blaine exclaimed with tears in his eyes, doing his best to keep up with the royal knight. “We should be fighting them!”

The two men stopped in a servants’ quarters and after Cooper checked outside for any signs of Liman soldiers, he gripped at Blaine’s arms. “Not now, Blaine. That guy is a mage and we don’t have the means to stop him. Trust me, no one wants to kill him anymore than me right now but we can’t be rushing in swords blazing to our deaths. Right now we _need_ to escape.”

Blaine pursed his lips and swallowed thickly, digesting the words the knight spoke to him. He wiped away at his tears and nodded, though begrudgingly. “Right… you’re right.”

A creaking noise as the door swung open had Cooper quickly unsheathing his sword.

“Whoa!” The intruder threw up his hands in surrender with the blade pointed in his direction. “I’m just here to see Blaine.”

“Sebastian!” Blaine all but pounced onto his friend, arms wrapping around him for a tight embrace as Cooper withdrew his weapon. “God, this is all such a mess… Cooper says we have to run away and I don’t want to leave b-but… if they find me then I’m dead.”

The servant wore a deep frown as he rubbed the prince’s back. He looked to the knight who was again peering through the window to see if the coast was clear. “I’ll help you two escape. I rather have you safe and apart from me than here but in danger.”

Cooper nodded. “I know of a place where we could take refuge. Westerwick has many loyal allies.”

“You can count Citadel Wain as one, as well.” The door swung open again and Jean Baptiste appeared in the room. The sudden appearance of another person in the room nearly had Cooper’s heart jumping out of his chest. “If we successfully escape, when the moment comes you need help retaking Westerwick, I’ll stand by your side, Prince Blaine.”

Sebastian’s eyes narrowed as he sized Jean up. He wasn’t about to let the guy look like the hero. “I will, too. I might be just a servant but I know there’s a lot of people who would join a Resistance and fight for you when you needed it. Everyone loves-- loved-- King Erik. We got you, killer.”

Blaine began to feel better knowing that even with his father dead and the kingdom overthrown, he had allies that had his back.

He wasn’t alone.

“I’ll come back.” Blaine said resolutely, a completely different look in his eyes. “I’ll avenge my father and I’ll take Westerwick back. I promise.”


	3. Long Live the King...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With Blaine having fled his homeland, Sebastian is left behind to cater to the new King and Prince of Westerwick...

_“You need to pledge your allegiance to the Hummels. Pretend to like them or accept them as the new rulers of Westerwick or whatever; do whatever you need to do in order to stay alive. I need you to be alive when I come back, Seb. You cannot die.”_

Blaine’s last words echoed in the back of Sebastian’s mind as the crack of a whip resounded throughout the servant’s chambers. Sebastian hissed out in pain as he dropped to his knees, body trembling and breath shuddering. His body shook as he glared up at his attacker, a common Liman soldier wielding a whip while his sword rested at his waist. Had he just listened to his best friend’s words, he wouldn’t be on the receiving end of the whip right now.

It all started when all the palace servants and guards were rounded up. Any Westerwick soldiers that did not immediately surrender when Lima invaded were put to the death. The servants within the palace had the same privileges as the Westerwick citizens; if they pledged their loyalty to Burt as the new king of Westerwick, their lives were spared.

Sebastian’s foster mother spoke for the servants who resided in the castle. “We are but palace servants, Your Highness. The late King Erik employed us and that was all; we would be gracious if you would continue using our services.”

Sebastian knelt next to his foster mother and sister, both afraid for their lives. It had been agreed upon before they were summoned to the throne room that they would feign loyalty to King Burt and Prince Kurt while they await for the rightful prince to return and reclaim the throne.

“Father. I want _that_ one to be my personal slave.”

Sebastian looked up from where he knelt in front of the throne’s pedestal and immediately grimaced at the way the prince eyed him. Prince Kurt had an evil glint in his eye that made Sebastian’s stomach churn in a way he’d never felt before. He hated that Kurt sat where Blaine once did-- where Blaine was _supposed_ to be.

King Burt looked up from the servants to answer his son who was seated next to him. “The boy? Fine, do with him what you wish.”

Prince Kurt laughed giddily and clapped his hands as if he’d just received a gift on Christmas morning. “You, slave,” he pointed at Sebastian when he addressed him. “You’re to report to my quarters first thing in the morning to wait on me, hand and foot.”

Sebastian glanced over to his foster mother and foster sister, hoping that either of them could somehow get him out of such responsibilities but what could they do? His sister shot him an urgent look, all aware that Kurt was still waiting for a proper response.

“Yes... your majesty.” Sebastian’s hands balled up into tight fists, taking everything within him to not explode on the tyrannical king and prince.

That night as Sebastian rested on his bed, only the moon casting any light into his room, he hoped to himself that Blaine was able to safely make it out of Westerwick without any problems. The day of the insurgence, a hefty bounty was placed on Blaine’s head and it put him at a much higher risk.

There was a scurrying under Sebastian’s bed-- tiny claws against the floorboards-- which emerged and climbed onto the sheets. A small wyvern, Sebastian’s “pet”, nestled itself between its master’s shoulder and neck. The creature was no longer than a foot long and its wingspan less than two. Sebastian had rescued the wyvern as a hatchling only a few months ago, who at the time was about to become a wild fox’s quick meal. Upon rescuing the winged reptile, Sebastian deduced the it was either orphaned or abandoned-- he developed an immediate kinship to the vulnerable creature.

The wyvern whined, a muted squeaking from the back its throat as it sensed its master’s distress.

“I miss Blaine, too.” Sebastian replied as if he understood, a gentle hand coming up to pet at tiny scales.

Suddenly, Sebastian was struck with an idea. He shot up in bed, unintentionally catapulting the wyvern across the room. With its cat-like reflexes, the wyvern managed to expand its wings and glide to the floor with grace. It watched curiously as Sebastian moved to a small desk, pulling out a sheet of parchment paper and a quill.

* * *

The next morning, Sebastian awoke with a jolt to the loud pounding at his door. It was barely past sunrise judging by the dim light streaming into the room. With very little time to react or think, he went immediately for the door to open it. His face paled at the sight before him.

There stood a soldier at least two heads taller than him, battle axe in his hand and eyes almost glowing a deep red. Sebastian immediately noticed that the man wasn’t wearing the standard Liman armor or robes, but rather a fur cloak draped over his bare torso. “Prince Hummel demands your presence.”

At the mention of the prince, Sebastian deflated and rubbed some of the sleep from his eyes. “Is he fucking kidding? It’s barely even morning yet.”

The soldier said nothing, only growling softly before pulling on the servant’s shirt and tugging him into the hallway. Caught off-guard, Sebastian fell to his knees as he was suddenly hoisted from his room. Cursing under his breath, the tired servant pushed himself to his feet and made his way to the main palace quarters.

“You’re late.” Kurt’s voice echoed through the room from his place on the throne. Sebastian noted that no one else was present other than the three of them. “I’m an early riser so you’re expected to do the same if you’re to wait on me hand and foot, slave.”

Sebastian gritted his teeth at the man’s holier-than-thou attitude. “I have a name, y’know.”

Kurt let out an airy chuckle. “Do you think I care? To me, you are ‘slave’. When you die, the next will be ‘slave’. It’s just easier for me, wouldn’t you say?” He outstretched his arm and motioned for the soldier to stand beside him. “Now _he’s_ different. My father gifted him to me years ago; orphaned and _modified_ thanks to Father’s power.”

Sebastian looked at the soldier and realization dawned upon him as he realized the quiet soldier had been turned into a mindless bodyguard. He wondered that if he talked out of turn, Kurt would have the same thing done to him as well.

He thought it best to listen to Blaine’s advice and just do as he was told.

Sebastian was never a very good listener, though.

* * *

Every morning at the crack of dawn, Sebastian reported to the throne room to fetch or do whatever it was the prince required. Each night, he returned to his room feeling drained and too tired to take care of himself. One particular night after the prince had retired to his quarters and Sebastian was his own man again until sunrise, Sebastian plopped onto his bed with an exhausted sigh. Like every night, he checked for his wyvern friend to see if his letter had been delivered. He’d hoped that the wyvern would’ve been able to pick up on Blaine’s scent from an old tunic Sebastian had kept but so far, no luck. Each night after Sebastian had it out at sunrise, the wyvern returned with the letter still attached to its body.

Having no connection or communication with Blaine was worrying. Having gone from spending nearly every waking moment together to literally none whatsoever was damn near heartbreaking. Sebastian had always been a strong individual and always did his best to protect Blaine. As capable as Cooper was as a knight, Sebastian laid awake in bed for hours thinking about and hoping Blaine was safe and unharmed.

He could feel the continued lack of sleep and daily tasks wearing on him until one day he fell ill. That day, Sebastian couldn’t find the energy to pull himself out of bed and even his foster sister and foster mother were worried for his condition.

“I’ll cover for you today,” Sebastian’s foster sister, Marley, volunteered. “I can handle His Royal Annoyance for at least one day while you rest. You’ve been spreading yourself too thin lately.”

Sebastian reluctantly agreed, burrowing deeper under his covers for some much needed rest.

* * *

 

“Does it look like I care?!” Prince Kurt’s voice became shrill and angrier than it had ever been when he learned he would have to make do for the day without his personal servant doing everything short of wiping his own ass for him. “Bring him to me this instant or I will punish your entire family for your insolence! Should I call my father to teach you all a lesson…?”

Panic spread wide in the servants’ eyes, afraid that their fate would soon mirror that of the late King Erik. No one dared defy Kurt and his mage of a father.

The prince pushed his bodyguard into the direction of the door, growling under his breath. “Bring that cretin here if you have to drag him!” He commanded, already thinking of ways to punish Sebastian.

The hulk of a man made his way to Sebastian’s room, not even bothering to knock as he barged in, unannounced. Sebastian jolted awake from the noise as the wyvern quickly came to its master’s defense, baring its teeth at the large bodyguard from atop the bed. The wyvern went completely unnoticed, the bodyguard wrapping his large hand around the servant’s arm as he began dragging him down the hall. The door slammed shut with the wyvern still inside, unable to help any further.

“Wh-What the fuck are you doing?!” Adrenaline had rid Sebastian of any sleepiness he might’ve had from just waking up but it did nothing for his splitting headache.

“The prince requires your presence.” The bodyguard spoke in his monotonous voice, eyes straight ahead as he marched down the hall with Sebastian in tow. Even with Sebastian fighting back and attempting to wrench free from the bodyguard’s tight hold, he was simply too weak.

When they arrived in the throne room, King Burt had joined his son and the servants were all kneeling in fear before the two. Burt looked uninterested as he sat on his throne, merely a spectator and to judge his son’s potential as future king. Kurt was standing, arms crossed over his chest. He looked at least somewhat pleased when the bodyguard returned with his new favorite servant.

“When I tell you I need you _at dawn_ , I expect you to be by my side _at dawn_ .” Prince Kurt barked even before the bodyguard let go of Sebastian and let him fall limp against the hard floor. “You don’t get to _choose_ whether or not you get out of bed to serve me. You don’t get to have that privilege as a slave.”

“I’m _not_ a slave.” Sebastian bit back, glaring up at the evil prince as he rose to his knees. “When I served under King Erik, I was a servant but he wasn’t cruel. I had rights as a human being.”

A wicked smile curled upon Kurt’s lips as he laughed. “Erik is _dead_. The prince is being hunted down as we speak. The Anderson lineage dies with them and my father and I have taken over. Eventually we will conquer Citadel Wain and even the Outskirts; we will rule all of Flumine by the time we’re finished. Westerwick was only the first step.”

Sebastian knew that Blaine would return and he knew in his heart and mind that the Hummel’s reign would come to end someday very soon. He bit down on in the inside of his cheek, trying his best to hold his tongue.

“Someday, when my father passes, I will be your king and your ruler; you’ll have to do _everything_ I command.” Kurt spoke with an arrogant certainty.

Sebastian had had enough. “You’re nothing but a spoilt brat-- You’ll never make it as king.” He struggled to rise to his feet past the cloud of dizziness. Sebastian glared at the prince with a defiant look and seeing Kurt taken aback made the moment all the more satisfying.

“Karofsky,” Burt called out from his seat on the throne. “See to it that the _slave_ learns his lesson when speaking out against my son.” As he spoke, his eyes glowed a menacing purple as the bodyguard’s eyes glowed red. “I want to teach him the hard way that no one defies the Hummel’s.”

Sebastian fearfully looked toward his foster sister and mother as Karofsky picked him up with ease and dragged him to somewhere unknown.

* * *

An hour later, Sebastian found himself naked and bare in a dark, damp room with only a single torch to shed little light onto his haggard form. The bodyguard stood above him, a heavy leather whip in hand. Specks and splatters of blood stained the floors and walls.

Behind the soldier stood Prince Kurt Hummel, arms crossed over his chest with a dark grin across his face. “Maybe after this you’ll learn to hold your tongue, cretin.” Kurt left through the thick wooden door separating the torture chamber from the rest of the castle. With Kurt no longer in the room, the soldier would wrap up the punishment until he wore himself out.

Another crack of the whip and Sebastian’s arms buckled under him, his face hitting the dirty floor. The markings on his back burned an angry red and he felt it burn down to his core.

He only hoped Blaine was not suffering a worse fate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this took way too long to write and I apologize; I will strive to work harder and write more in the future. thank y'all for reading


	4. More than a Trick of the Light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blaine and Cooper finally reach help in the shape of Ichma Heights.

Blaine had been successful at escaping Westerwick with the help of his protector, Cooper. The prince had never set foot outside of his father’s domain so everything was completely new territory. They managed to make it across the land in two nights to their destination.

When Cooper had announced they were heading for Ichma Heights, Blaine’s face dropped. He had heard stories of the priestesses who resided there and that any that dared trespass typically did not return or were ever heard from again. Though secluded, they were powerful and well-skilled in a kind of combat beyond a normal person’s understanding.

“King Erik has been kind to their people in the past; hopefully they’ll take pity on us and our situation. If not, I’ll charm them with my good looks.” Cooper tried to quell the prince’s worries with his bravado and swagger but neither were convinced.

For a long while it seemed like the two of them were aimlessly wandering the forest, the heavy scent of pine surrounding them. Blaine did his best to keep up with the knight but he was smaller and weaker, so in turn slower. He was out of breath for most of the trek.

“We’re almost there, Blaine,” Cooper announced, pointing upwards. Peeking out through the thicket of trees was a temple. It was well-hidden behind the trees and had the knight not pointed it out or had they not known where they were going, Blaine surely wouldn’t have seen it.

When they arrived inside the temple, Blaine took note of the dimly lit torches placed in the corners of the large structure. Within the vast temple stood a dozen cloaked individuals lined up in two rows leading up to a stone throne sitting on a pedestal. There sat another cloaked figure who stood at the appearance of the two intruders.

“I’d heard whispers and rumors of what had happened but I didn’t believe it until this moment.” A woman’s voice echoed through the temple and the person standing in front of the throne pulled down the hood of her cloak which had been hiding her face, reveal herself. She wore a jeweled headdress to match her necklace which shimmered brilliantly against her olive skin. “I’m impressed you two made it out alive considering how much the prince’s head is worth.”

“Lady Santana,” Cooper knelt in front of the woman in respect. “We humbly ask that you and your people allow the prince and I to take refuge in Ichma Heights. No one should expect the crown prince of Westerwick to be hiding here.”

Santana smirked and strode down the stone stairs of her pedestal to stand directly in front of the two men. “You're true there, but why should I put my people at risk by harboring a wanted man? What has young Blaine of Westerwick done for me?” She lifted her brow in a questioning manner, waiting for a good answer.

It was then that Blaine also knelt down, lowering his head even further than Cooper had. “Please, your majesty-- I've lost my father and kingdom in one fell swoop and I don't have anywhere else to go. I want to fight and reclaim my kingdom but I can't do it alone. I need your help.”

For a long moment there was a silence, pregnant with tension. Blaine’s eyes were still glued to the stone ground beneath him as he waited for the priestess’ response.

“You have your father's courage.” Santana spoke with an amused laugh. She appreciated that such royalty would humble himself in her presence. “I’ll help you since we owe a good debt to King Erik and it would cause less problems for us if you were King instead of those power-hungry Hummel’s. I’ve heard many stories of their cruelty. They don’t call him the _Kingslayer_ without reason.”

Blaine’s head rose then, looking up to the young woman who couldn’t’ve been much older than himself. It was astonishing to him that someone his age was the leader of an entire people. It stirred something within him when he remembered that with his father gone, he would be the next to claim the throne. _He_ had to be a leader now, too.

“Lady Santana, I am humbled in your presence. If I’m to reclaim my father’s throne as my own, I need to become stronger.” He stood then, to speak to Santana as an equal.

Santana crossed her arms over her chest and appeared intrigued.

“I wish to learn magic. I need to learn it to take down the man who murdered my father; I’ve heard all of the stories of your soldiers as a child.” Blaine urged for help, his big honey eyes looking up at Santana, pleading.

“They are not _soldiers_ ; we have no army,” Santana corrected, gracefully walking down the steps to her humble throne as she approached the young prince. “We are warriors. We have no ranks and we all fight as equals-- only to defend ourselves. The women of our kind are especially powerful, in more ways than just mere _magic_.” She looked behind her and caught the glance of one of the women who had peeked out beyond her hood.

Blaine noticed that although Santana spoke of equality, she carried herself with a sense of confidence that showed she belonged in a position of power and leadership. “Please, I _need_ you to teach me. Magic can only defeat magic and King Burt is a powerful mage and--

The priestess lifted her hand in front of herself to quiet the young man, cutting him off. “Magic cannot be learnt; it is an innate power that dwells within one since birth.” She pressed her outstretched hand gently against his chest as her eyes glowed a gentle blue. “The priestesses within our sanctuary have exercised their abilities since we were children.”

The prince’s breath caught in his throat at the woman’s brown eyes glowed blue, the jewels adorning her head seemingly glowing as well. A sweet fragrance that reminded him of springtime in the meadows back home filled his nostrils. He blinked and watched as flowers sprung up from between the cracks of the temple’s foundation and bloomed with such vibrant colors Blaine hadn’t even known existed. The vines twined up the temple’s pillars and Blaine gasped at the miraculous sight before him.

“Blaine? Are you alright?”

Cooper’s urgent tone of voice snapped Blaine to reality and when he turned to look at his now-standing protector, the flowers were suddenly gone. He confusedly turned back to look at Santana and the flowers had disappeared, no evidence of them ever sprouting left behind.

“Illusionary magic,” Santana supplied the answer before the prince could ask. “It’s no parlor trick or a trick of the light; it’s our specialty and it’s what has helped us remain protected for so long. It’s a gift that’s been passed down for many generations within our people. The keyword being _our_ people; it’s not something you can teach if you aren’t born with the powers.”

Blaine visibly deflated at the realization that he couldn’t rely on Ichma’s magic to aide him against his foes back in Westerwick. “... How are we supposed to reclaim our home if the Kingslayer is just going to mind-control us into killing ourselves like he did with my father?” he looked between Santana and Cooper with a very distraught expression on his face.

Both were quiet, clearly unsure how to answer the boy. 

“We’ll think of something when the time comes, Blaine,” Cooper tried to assuage the young prince’s worries even though things looked grim. “Right now we should be thankful that we’ve found refuge here in Ichma Heights.” The older man turned to the priestess and gave her another bow of his head.

 

* * *

“You and I are going to train.”

Blaine had been lying in his tiny twin bed when Cooper entered the room. The two had been sharing a small room comprised of two beds and a chair. Living standards in Ichma Heights were much less than the royal castle in Westerwick but Blaine had learned much humility in his time away from his home. It had been a week since he and Cooper had both arrived and neither had come up with a plan on what to do next. They knew they had allies but without an attack plan, how were they supposed to overthrow the Kingslayer Burt?

“What is training going to do? My dad mastered his sword techniques but he didn’t stand a chance against that demon’s magic.” Blaine sat up in his bed and looked to his knight with an expectant look. “How are we supposed to combat his magic if when we come face-to-face, he makes me kill myself, too?”

“What if I told you that you wouldn’t have to fight him face-to-face?”

Blaine looked up at the knight with a confused look on his face. “What do you mean? Wouldn’t it be cowardly to bring him down by some other means? I _have_ to fight him head on, Cooper.”

Cooper took a step forward and held his hand out, telling the young prince to wait. “The Kingslayer killed by direct eye contact. He looked King Erik in the eye when he cast that spell, but if he can’t make you kill yourself if you don’t look at him.”

The explanation just made Blaine even more confused, rearing back and shaking his head. “So, what, am I going to go in blindfolded?” He asked with a short laugh.

“Yes, exactly!”

Cooper looked far too excited and that’s when Blaine realized that the knight wasn’t joking.

“Coop, you can’t be serious.”

“Why not? I can train you how to fight with a sword. The _right_ way, Blaine.”

Blaine shook his head again but learning the way of the sword-- no, _mastering_ the way of the sword would be the first step of many on his quest to reclaim the throne.

And so that was exactly what Blaine did. Every morning he woke early and trained with Cooper until his hands bled. Some of the priestesses cheered him on from the sidelines and even Lady Santana commended the prince, saying “you have a lot of guts for such a small man”. With the support of Ichma behind him, Blaine was more than determined to reclaim the throne.

Blaine wore himself out training every day and slept like a log some nights due to his weariness and fatigue. He wasn’t sure how much time had passed until one day whilst training, he managed to actually disarm Cooper. With a quick side step and a clever parry, the clattering of the knight’s heavy broadsword hitting the floor jolted Blaine out of his focus. He was dripping with sweat, the tip of his sword pointed in Cooper direction as he quickly lowered his sword. The knight had his hands up in surrender and looked impressed with the prince.

“Progress,” Cooper told the younger man, a smile on his face. “You have made incredible progress, my prince. We will defeat the Kingslayer with more than just mere tricks.”

Blaine chuckled breathlessly, turning to look at the women clapping for him. This was but a small hurdle he had managed to overcome-- the first of many-- but the prince had a very positive outlook for the future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter title tongue in cheek reference to @define_serenity's nightflash fic because seblaine lol


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